The Longest Five Years (Completed)

Luke

Sixteen months later

"I thought you said you had the lights on a timer," Reagan says as we pull up in front of our cabin. Her window is barely open, but the cool October air swirls in, carrying with it the familiar scent of burning leaves and campfires.

"I did," I swallow. "I swear I did," She looks at me and frowns as I put the car in park and turn off the ignition. "Maybe it's still on the summer schedule..." I offer, opening my door and walking around to the trunk to grab our bags. "We're rarely here after September, but I'll reset it again tomorrow."

"I forgot how creepy it gets up here. We should really put in some solar lights," she says, closing her door and grabbing a bag from my hand before we head up the steps of the porch. It's pitch black. There's not a street lamp for a miles, but the moon is high and bright reflecting off the lake, and in it I can see her shiver.

"I can't get it," I say, fiddling with the key in the knob. "The door is stuck," I give it a few shoves, but it doesn't open. She shivers again, looking over her shoulder. "You try."

She frowns up at me, but sets her hands on the keys and turns. It cracks open and she smirks at me, but when she pushes it open and flips on the lights, she stumbles back toward me and buries her face in my neck. My hands come up around her shoulders and I hold her to me. Even after more than a year, it takes a minute to process that everything is okay. We're fine.

"Surprise!"

Erin and her boyfriend, Wes, and Emmy are standing in front of the fireplace.

"Congratulations again!" Emmy charges at us and hugs me once before wrapping her arms around Reagan. "I missed you guys!" It's hard to believe she's a big as she is. We celebrated her seventh birthday last month, but when I look at her, I still see that tiny baby in my arms.

"Thank you, Em. We missed you, too," I can't tear my eyes off Reagan's left hand runs as it runs down the back of our daughter's hair. It's been three weeks and I still can't believe she's my wife.

We stayed in Dublin for a week, packing and wrapping up her obligations before flying home for good. The transition was smooth and Emmy welcomed her into our family as if she'd always belonged. We eat as many meals together as we can with my work schedule, and I often come home to the two of them trying a new recipe.

Every day, I put on the uniform and kiss Reagan goodbye, hoping with all that I have I'll get to come home to them again. I think of her. I wait to see her as if I haven't seen her in months. And when I get home, and pull off my boots, she's there waiting for me. Loving me. Loving my daughter like her own child. They've grown closer.

As the time passes, I only fall harder. I remember the girl I loved, and the strong woman she was when she came back to me. I fall for her music and the passion she puts into everything she does...for her courage and the way she teaches my daughter to be brave. I fall for the love she gives my little girl. Limitless, infinite promises that she will always be there for her, no matter how old she is.

I asked Reagan to marry me four months after she moved home. It was a gorgeous, late-summer night out on our dock under a high, bright moon much like the one tonight.

One year ago

"I wish every night could be like this," Reagan says beside me, her feet making circles in the water as our legs hang off the dock. My jeans are rolled up to my ankles, but she's been "accidentally" splashing me for the last fifteen minutes, so they're wet anyway. And for the hundredth time since she's come home, I feel like a kid again.

She can't stop smiling. I don't mean to, but I can't help but think of the way we used to sit out here all those years ago, when we still had our whole lives ahead of us.